L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

"I have a message from the Mage-Guard Overcommander for you." The trooper extended an envelope.

"Thank you."

"The overcommander requested that I return with your spoken reply, ser."

"In a moment." Rahl opened the envelope and extracted the single sheet, beginning to read immediately.

Rahl-

I'd like to have dinner with you this evening [fourday] when you return from scouting. If that is possible, please tell the messenger, and come to the River Inn as soon as you comfortably can.

I'll most likely be in the conference room. Have yourself announced if you don't see me quickly.

The signature was the familiar "T."

"You can tell the overcommander that I will be there shortly. Thank you."

"Yes, ser." The messenger inclined his head, then turned his mount toward the lane leading out to the main road.

Rahl dismounted, tied the gelding to a post outside the stable, and hurried into the stead house, where he washed up quickly, then spotted and brushed his uniform and jacket. He did not see Drakeyt, and when he returned to the stable area, he spent more than a few moments before he found Fedeor, the fourth squad leader, in the barn bunking area.

"Ser?"

"I've been summoned to a meeting with the Mage-Guard Overcommander, and I'd appreciate it if you'd convey that information to the captain. He and Quelsyn and the other squads haven't returned yet."

"Yes, ser. We can do that."

"I'd appreciate it." Rahl paused. "You and your men did a good job out there today-this whole eightday in fact."

"Thank you, ser."

As Rahl left the barn, he reminded himself that he needed to tell the squad leaders when they'd performed well more often.

He took another few moments to give the gelding some water-not too much-and some handfuls of grain before he mounted and rode out, back toward Dawhut. By the time he neared the River Square, the early twilight had deepened into a deep violet dusk, and the brisk breeze that had chilled the afternoon had faded into occasional light wisps of air that only intensified the unpleasant odors from the distilleries.

To his left, below the river wall and farther to the south, he could just make out the river-barge piers. Several guards paced the piers, but the barges all seemed empty, and there were no steam tugs anywhere in sight.

The River Square itself was empty except for a squad split into four groups of five, one group at each corner, and Rahl rode across the north side of the square, then the boulevard on the west side before turning back east toward the River Inn. Once in the small courtyard behind the inn, he dismounted before the stable, then had to slip the inn's stableboy a pair of coppers to get him to find a place for the gelding.

"Thank you, ser." The youth smiled.

"You're welcome. He's had a long day, and any fodder or grain you could find… we'd both appreciate it."

"We'll see what we can do, ser. We will."

Rahl could sense that his gratitude was genuine. Had the officers and troopers at the inn just been ordering the staff around? "I may be a while, but I'll be leaving tonight."

"Yes, ser."

With a smile at the young man, Rahl turned and crossed the courtyard, making his way through a side entrance and along a narrow corridor past the doors of several rooms before he pushed open another door and stepped inside the oversized but low-ceilinged foyer of the River Inn. He glanced around, taking in the dark wood paneling lit by too few wall lamps, as well as the worn dark green and maroon carpets and a number of high-backed wooden benches, all of which were empty.

Taryl was actually waiting-if talking to a dark-haired army commander. He turned and gestured to Rahl.

Rahl walked toward the two, then stopped, and inclined his head politely. "Sers."

"Commander Whelayn, this is Senior Mage-Guard Rahl. He's been working with Third Company on the scouting I told you about."

"My pleasure, Commander." Rahl inclined his head.

"No, it's mine. I appreciated your quick action out there on the square the other day."

"I just followed the overcommander's lead. If he hadn't acted so quickly, anything I did wouldn't have mattered."

"But he did, and you did, and that's what counts." The commander inclined his head. "Thank you, Overcommander, and a pleasure to meet you, Majer." With a nod and a smile, the sandy-haired commander stepped away from the two mage-guards.

"It's good to see you, Rahl. You're looking fit."

"Physically, yes, ser." Rahl was feeling worried because he really hadn't practiced enough on some of the skills that Taryl had worked him hard to develop.

"Not working hard enough on the more obscure order-skills?"

"Probably not."

Taryl only nodded, and that made Rahl feel more guilty than if the overcommander had chastised him, even mildly.

"There's a good bistro around the corner, two corners actually," Taryl went on. "The food here is less than outstanding, and that's overstating it." He turned and walked toward the double doors of the main entrance to the foyer.

Rahl had to take three quick steps to catch up.

Once they were outside, Taryl walked to the west end of the square-the southwest corner-and turned south.

Rahl studied the streets and the alleyways, looking back toward the square as well. He could only see the patrolling troopers and a few handfuls of troopers and officers on the boulevard. "There's no one out here."

"The submarshal imposed a night-time curfew," Taryl said.

"There aren't that many rebels here."

"Outside of a few malcontents, there aren't any from Dawhut. We interrogated the two you disabled. They were part of a squad that came from Sastak."

"But he imposed a curfew?"

"He did." Taryl turned westward at the next corner, then gestured toward a lit doorway ahead. "Here we are."

The bistro's front door had an etched-glass window, showing a well-endowed bull standing on his hind legs and holding a covered tray on a raised front hoof. The woodwork was varnished heavily enough that it shimmered in the light cast by the two lamps flanking the entrance.

Rahl opened the door for the overcommander.

"Thank you."

Inside, the walls and the tables were of the same varnished dark golden oak, and the hangings flanking the front window were of a pale blue. The only other patrons, not surprisingly, given the curfew, were two commanders seated at the side table just back from the window. They glanced toward the mage-guards, then quickly ignored Rahl and Taryl.

Rahl suppressed a smile and continued to study the bistro. For all that it was no larger than Eneld's cantina in Swarthheld, Rahl could see and sense that the cooking would likely be far better than what Seorya had served him when he'd been a clerk at the Nylan Merchant Association.

"Sers?" asked a trim, graying woman in a pale blue tunic. An old reddish slash scar ran from below her left ear to a point just short of the corner of her mouth.

"A quiet corner," Taryl suggested.

"This way." She smiled professionally, leading them to the far corner and a circular table that could have seated four easily. "They're all quiet, but this one is quieter."

"Thank you."

The woman nodded. "What would you like to drink?"

"A good dark ale," Taryl said.

"An amber lager."

"I'll get those, then tell you the fare for the evening."

From her bearing, and from what he could sense, Rahl had the feeling she might well be the proprietress.

"How did you find this place?" asked Rahl after a moment.

"I asked some of the staff at the River Inn."

The proprietress returned with two large crystal mugs. "Here you are, sers."

"Thank you."

"Tonight, we're a little limited. We have a cream burhka-it's richer and only mildly spicy-and we have some lamb cutlets-they're almost mutton cutlets, but they are tender, and they're served with piastoni and mint sauce. There's also a rich fowl pie with jaspard mushrooms and onions." She smiled again, the expression concealing nervousness.